


Yellow Eyes

by EmeraldIbis



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 10:58:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15929036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldIbis/pseuds/EmeraldIbis
Summary: Set in 1600 America a small tribe of wolf anthropomorphic people settled near the coast.That was their first mistake.Only two children escaped, sent by Ibis to flee to the tribe that made their home between mountains to the west. The Yellow Eyes had bee





	1. Chapter 1

First Snippet Smoke. Fire. Burning.

The child ran from the carnage behind her, tripping and smacking her face against the hard dirt with a heavy crack. Her nose shifted and the cartilage screeched in protest. Heavy booted footsteps startled her like a doe, the wolven child froze from fear. Glowing yellow eyes and harsh gold coats, gold like the angry sun on a fierce day. Unlike the soft white of her people. Wait, that voice, where was that voice? Just as the scream yanked her out of her dumb stupor she caught a glimpse of the pale form of her mother stumbling and a yellow eyed monster sneered as-.

Tala saw no more.

The tolling gong crept like the dead to the small wooden room, awakening the occupants whose dreams had taken them far from here. Far, far, away....

Smack Claws gouged her cheek, “Get up, bitch!” The Yellow Eyes glared down at her. Tala opened her eyed slowly and glared back. The language foreigners communicated with sounded like rocks tossed around by waves; she was old enough to know they had not come from her homeland. The language was simple enough to understand, but they didn’t know that and the less the Yellow Eyes knew the better. Tala stood quickly, lowering her eyes as the claws raised themselves threateningly again. Her cheek would split if the man hit it again. Her mother, Ibis, stepped forward and grabbed Tala by the arm. Work started immediately.

Yellow grass, yellow dirt, yellow eyes, yellow bruises all over her legs.

Tala spit on the ground, these beasts would not break her. The slicing of a whip all of two seconds before it connected with a crack on the back of the boy next to her. His soft grey coat sticky with red in ugly lines on his back. The soft grey boy hurried to obey. The bound cord sailed through the air or would have if it had been allowed to fly.

Another beast with the same eyes sneered, “You dropped something. Pick it up, or did your savage mother never teach you that?”

A piece of wheat in the beast’s claws fell to the ground.

In the first week of her capture, when Tala had still been too young to be of much use, she toddled along after her mother when a slave smacked a yellow eyes for ruining the wheat cord. When her tribe member came back two weeks later the wolven lasted only long enough to kiss his stillborn son before he followed him beyond.

The boy froze, every slave in this compound knew the word for savage. It was spoken at them often enough. Sweat mingled with the red and the grass slowly gathered in a pile to be bound again by unsteady hands. Tala glanced at the sky between hacks at the never ending long grass. The sun’s glow barely teased the blue horizon and she sighed. Long day ahead of them.

Only when the sun fled the scene did the yellow eyes allow them to stop. Her bitter thoughts clouded her view of the packed dirt trail. The Yellow Eyes rise and set with the sun. She spit again, her pack hunted at night.  The slaver paused at the commotion, the chain connecting her and the soft gray child together clinked as he moved. Yellow Eyes roved the pale wavy grass that stretched a great distance to either side. His mane flickered in the breeze like a candle and just like that he was down. Ibis stood in front of them with the long curved knife used to hack the wheat into cords. Stepping over the body as blood pooled she spoke softly as she carefully unlocked the chains on their wrists. “We need to leave, now.” Heavy boots. Tala froze, that night so long ago, but now the whip cracked on her back when the Yellow Eyes dragged her through the compound gates kicking and screaming. She would be the one kissing the floor before falling asleep to hopefully never rise again. Ibis growled, Tala jumped. “Move! There are tribes in the mountains, stick close to the river and you will find them.” The frightened doe of so long ago flew into action. The wolven boy sprinted with her step for step, freedom put new energy into limbs weary from sun, work and never knowing when the next meal would be handed out.


	2. The Man in the Caravan

Dawn crept over the horizon, the pair lay curled side by side in a shallow den below a tree root. Tala stirred slowly. Her companion opened his eyes and with a startled jolt she realized that in the ten years that they had been in the same compound she never caught his name. Could he even speak?  
Racking her brains she stretched as much as the small space would allow. Body heat and fur had warmed up their little den nicely. So long as they were not in the clutches of the Yellow Eyes they would never break their backs over a field again. No, they would run, jump and hunt as the traditions of their people. 

Yes, yes he could, very early in her memory was an image of him cursing quietly after a Yellow Eye kicked his shin. They couldn’t have been more than eleven years old. Turning to him, clearing her throat she spoke. “What is your name?” Her companion startled before shaking his head to clear it.  
The deep voice that came out of such a small boy startled her. 

“My name is Azariah.” Tala wrinkled her snout.  
“That’s a long name, can I call you something shorter?” Azariah let out a bark of laughter that looked like it surprised him.  
“My nickname was Azar.” He went into no further explanation and she asked for none. They had work to do and they both knew it. The mountain tribes were several days travel at least. Standing up and smoothing the filthy rag that served as her dress Tala smiled, “Lets go find some better clothes,” Her stomach rumbled, “and food. The mountains are going to be very cold.” 

It took them two days of travel to find an encampment large enough to steal from. Azar remembered his grandfather bringing him to a pond to fish and many hours were spent waiting for bites in a small alcove to the main river. Now their hunger was sated but they still needed clothes. This encampment they had snuck up on had three large wagons and Wolven slept in bags around a dusty campfire. Tala knelt next to Azar, “Do you see anything?” He nodded.  
“There are a lot of clothes in the back one. We should check there while they are still sleeping.” 

 

Creeping quietly, the duo made quick work of the first trunk and located three items they could use; two pairs of sturdy leather pants a similar style to her people and a scarf. From a mental count of the people outside this was too many supplies to actually be used, which meant this caravan was for goods to be sold. She smiled, that was perfect. Making quick work of the other three trunks as quietly as possible Tala found a cloth bag, a few long sleeve shirts and another scarf. Azar grabbed her hand when she reached for the pair of boots and shook his head.  
Trusting his judgement she turned to the entrance, her blood ran cold and she covered her mouth to stifle a scream. A man perched on the rail of the cart.  
He was Wolven but not from any tribe she recognized. Black fur covered his snout and shoulders while the rest of him sported a light tan over a lean frame. He was not one of the men guarding the caravan, was he trying to steal as well?  
The odd man growled, stalking towards them. Tala turned with Azar. She was not going to wait around and find out. 

The two leapt out of the cart, making a beeline straight to the trees, commotion started behind them but neither looked back. Chilly water swashed playfully at their ankles when the stream grew shallow enough to cross. Crisp wind flipped the hair on their heads like a father would a small child and the trees grew taller and thicker as the small climb turned steep.  
When the mountain looked like it could fall on top of them they paused to take a breath. Thick, gnarled pines touched the sky and the rushing of the river to their left let them know where they were.  
“There is another day of travel, then we can start looking for mountain tribes.” Azar nodded motioning her to follow him, during their break he had climbed one of the many pines. Something had caught his eye.  
“Smoke? Not from a camp fire?” Azar shook his head.  
“The smoke was black, how many campfires have black smoke?” He was right, as far back as she could remember the camp smoke was either nonexistent if specific woods were used or a light brown that danced in the air like disobedient child. Sticking to the shady part of the undergrowth allowed even her white fur to mute in the dim light. The wide open clearing that greeted them did not have what they had been expecting. The wood and mud houses burned, tools, dead animals, and blood littered the ground like rain. Tala took a step back, tears streamed down her face.  
“Who-.” His voice was cut off when Tala tripped over something.  
Catching herself she bent and picked up the item with shaky hands. Blood froze down  
Tala’s spine, the long three pronged leather whip burned into their memory. 

The Yellow Eyes had been here, but why? They had more slaves then they could handle, Tala remembered that conversation well, it had been several months before and for weeks  
afterword she trembled that a Yellow Eye would open the door and shoot them to, ‘lower the population’.  
Her tail puffed at the memory, so that meant the monsters had just come to destroy and leave the tribe for dead. Tears burned her eyes, kneeling on the ground she clawed the dirt as her vision blurred. The gentle sobs of Azar next to her a constant reminder.  
They stayed kneeling for minutes, hours or days, for a while time had no meaning. Finally, after ten years they were allowed to grieve for the tribe that had been lost. Finally, allowed to grieve for the members still living but had long since left them, left them on that night. On that burning night of smoke and flame and screams. 

Tala stood, “I doubt there would be anything still of use to us here.” 

Azar stood as well, slower than she as if the weight had not quite left him. Tala’s shoulders slumped, the weight had not left her either, but her chest felt lighter and her eyes were clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to anyone reading this, this will likely not stay up for long as this is turning into an actual novel. My other one shots, Heat and Interesting Discoveries, Eggs Come in different Colors..Oops and Wolven Rambles will all be edited and in the case of Wolven Rambles will be re uploaded once I find any more one shots to add.


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